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Goodbye Earth
Folder:
Crumbling Planet .
Blue green marble,
travel-memories heavy,
aged. Come, yawn,
fade. Eras as epics
tell old tales of time.
A point reaches us
and our histories are
written in skin, etched
in ashes. A day afuture
time will stop and no
one will hum our song.
.
Lady A
.
Almost ethereal in its
Almost ethereal in its beauty, heart-shattering in its reality and monumental as a elegy for our one and only home. I'm hoping that you're looking far into the future, but at the rate we're hastening the Earth's decline, who knows?
Each line is shaped, superbly, by your concern for humanity and the living planet that spawned "our histories . . . / written in skin, etched/ in ashes."
A compact epic.
Best Earth Age Was Us
.
We got tv, public radio, video, vcrs, cars, planes, indoor plumbing, and streaming. And the net where poets blush. :D
~A~